


And You Will Find Me

by nagi_schwarz



Series: Comment Fic 2016 [146]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-10-05 01:01:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10293836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagi_schwarz/pseuds/nagi_schwarz
Summary: Written for the comment_fic prompt: "Supernatural, samandriel/ Benny , punk senior guy falls for freshman nerd"Benny Lafitte moves to a new school and makes a new friend. Ish.





	

The first time Benny met Samandriel, he hadn’t realized Samandriel was a senior. They had an art class together - Samandriel was good at drawing - and Samandriel was nice to Benny. Benny and his family had moved to Normal, Illinois from Louisiana, and a lot of kids made fun of Benny’s accent, but Samandriel didn’t seem to care. Benny figured out early on that Samandriel belonged to the Messenger clan, a bunch of punk goth kids who lived in this huge mansion on the far side of town but seemed to have no parents. Samandriel’s oldest brother was a legend at the high school. His name was Lucifer, he was bitterly angry about his father abandoning him and all his siblings, and he was scary as hell. Most of the Messenger kids rolled around town in long dark coats with too-heavy eyeliner and spiky jewelry and went about whatever business they had that kept the Messenger family fed and in their crazy huge mansion. Not all of the Messenger kids were mean. Gabriel looked like a throwback from _The Crow_ , with his black clown make-up and tendency to spout riddles disguised as jokes that no one realized were profound till he was gone. Castiel was less goth, more brooding dark businessman, in his black pinstriped three-piece suit. The only spot of color he had was a blue tie that matched his bright blue eyes. The kids at school said he’d dressed like that all through school, and he carried a really huge knife and was generally terrifying.  
  
And then there was Samandriel. He wore all white, but there was a definite gothic edge to the way he dressed - black eyeliner, black collar and wrist cuffs, black wings painted on the back of his white jacket. Everyone said he was nice, and one time Benny noticed he had freckles on his nose. Someone with freckles couldn’t be mean, right? Benny’s friend from auto shop Dean had freckles, and Dean wasn’t mean. A little rough around the edges, but not mean.  
  
Benny hadn’t given much thought to being assigned a seat in the art studio next to Samandriel till he noticed the way the other kids widened their eyes and whispered to each other. Samandriel just shrugged off his jacket, flipped to a clean sheet of paper on the sketchpad on his easel, scooped up a piece of charcoal, and drew.  
  
He glanced at Benny out of the corner of his eye, smiled briefly. “Hey, what’s your name?”  
  
“Benny. Benny Lafitte.”  
  
“I like your accent. Where are you from?”  
  
“Louisiana.”  
  
“That’s cool. What do you do for fun?”  
  
“I like to fish,” Benny said. It was his favorite thing ever. He and his Grandpere had gone fishing every weekend for as long as he could remember, and he missed Grandpere fiercely, but he still took his pole and went fishing on the weekends. “And sailing.” Grandpere had been a fisherman, and Benny had learned to walk on the sea before he’d learned to walk on land.   
  
“Oh? Want to be a sailor when you grow up? Join the Navy, maybe?”  
  
“No, I don’t think the Navy is for me. But I do want to sail. Have a boat of my own. See the world.”  
  
“That’s nice.” Samandriel flashed him another brief smile and kept on drawing.

At the end of art class, all Benny had to show for his effort was the ball he was supposed to draw to practice his shading. Samandriel hadn’t paid attention to the drawing exercises the teacher had assigned. Instead he’d drawn a picture of a boat on the open sea, a man standing in the bow. The man wore a dark peacoat and a fisherman’s cap and looked like Grandpere a little.  
  
“You’re really good,” Benny said.  
  
“Thanks.” Samandriel grabbed a can of fixative and sprayed it over the drawing. Then he tore the page off the easel, rolled it up, and handed it to Benny. “Something to think about for the future,” he said. Then he shrugged on his jacket and swept out of the art studio.  
  
Benny watched him go, baffled. But the hung the drawing in his room at home, because it was really cool, and he thought maybe the sailor in the picture looked kind of like him, if he were older and had a beard.  
  
He went through the next three weeks only seeing Samandriel in art class and never anywhere else before he figured it out. Samandriel was a senior. He spent just about every spare moment he had in the art studio, and once Mr. Shurley had asked Samandriel how his pieces were coming along for the senior art show. Benny, who’d stopped by to ask Mr. Shurley for some extra credit homework so he could get caught up on all he’d missed because he’d transferred in mid-term, paused.  
  
“I’ll have enough pieces for the show, sir,” Samandriel said, because he was always polite.   
  
“All right,” Mr. Shurley said, though he sounded nervous. “Just - don’t push yourself too hard.” And then he turned to greet Benny, and Benny, who’d paused at the realization that Samandriel was older than him (Samandriel looked so young! He had freckles! Benny was pretty stocky for his age, admittedly), blinked.  
  
“Mr. Shurley, I was wondering…”  
  
At first Benny wasn’t sure what to make of the drawing that showed up in his locker one day, other than to be baffled at how anyone had gotten into his locker. Once he looked more closely at the drawing, he recognized the art style. Samandriel. He had drawn his brother Castiel as an angel with epic wings, standing in some room with occult symbols on the walls, holding a shining silver sword.  
  
Drawings kept appearing in ways that baffled Benny. On the back of a worksheet he picked off of a pile in math class. On a napkin when he was in cafeteria eating lunch (he’d had to go get another napkin so as not to ruin the one with the picture of a really cool car). In the middle of a packet in history class. The drawings were of Benny, and his friend Dean, and Dean’s little brother Sam, although they were all adults (and Benny didn’t really believe that little Sam would grow up to be taller than Dean), and they were dressed in cool leather jackets and dusty jeans and looked like tough guys, and they were on some kind of adventure in Dean’s dad’s fancy car. The pictures could have been scenes from a comic book.  
  
Benny tried to say thank you the next time he saw Samandriel in art class, but Samandriel acted like he had no idea what Benny was talking about, just asked Benny about his family, or how class was going, and drew pictures that were completely unrelated to what Mr. Shurley assigned.  
  
Dean was pretty sure Samandriel had a crush on Benny, but then Dean had a crush on Castiel, so maybe that was just wishful thinking on his part.

And then one day Benny heard the news: the Messenger family was leaving. Getting kicked out of their house by their crazy Aunt Amara. After art class that day, Samandriel presented Benny with two pictures. One was, bafflingly, of two hands reaching for each other, like one person was pulling the other person up. Samandriel told Benny to give that picture to Dean. The other picture was of Samandriel and Benny, Benny a grown-up, Samandriel still looking exactly as he did, standing back-to-back in a forest of tall, dark trees, Benny holding what looked like a club studded with shark teeth, Samandriel holding one of those shining silver swords, getting ready to fight something beyond the edges of the page.  
  
Samandriel smiled, kissed Benny on the cheek, and walked out of the art studio for the last time. Written on the back of picture were the words, _Come find me._  
  
And Benny did, years later, when he woke in the middle of the night and his first mate was gone, taken by vampires. He found Dean and Sam first, and Sam really had grown to be taller and bigger than Dean. They were riding around the country in their father’s cool old car, and they had crazy weapons in the trunk, and sometimes Castiel joined them, and he carried a shining silver sword. They found Samandriel in a cement bunker where he was being held and tortured by a crazy guy with a British accent named Crowley.  
  
Samandriel looked just like Benny remembered him, face youthful, still with those freckles. But he was covered in blood and his white clothes were stained with dirt and gore.  
  
Sam, Dean, and Castiel didn’t know what to say when Castiel cut the last of Samandriel’s bonds and he surged out of the chair, caught Benny by the lapels of his coat, and hauled him in for a kiss.  
  
“What the hell?” Dean demanded.  
  
Castiel said, “He’s been waiting an awfully long time to do that.”  
  
“Benny or Samandriel?” Sam asked.  
  
“Both.”


End file.
